Faith as Allegiance
What do we imagine when we say “faith”? For many of us, we probably think of belief in things we cannot know or even belief in the face of contrary evidence. For many, faith is an illogical thing, something best practiced without too much deep thought or desires to uncover the truth. In fact, I have heard evangelical sermons decry the desire for theological proofs and truths because such things would undermine the role of faith. Regardless what you imagine when you hear that word, I want to offer a new idea: faith as allegiance, not belief.
I’m the type to desire certainty in all things. In fact, I would go so far as to say this desire for certainty is one of my worst character traits. The reality of life is that there are few, if any, things we can be truly certain about. We do not know whether our jobs will work out, whether our relationships will last, or whether we’ll stick with this new hobby. But, if we refuse to embark of these things, then we simply will not live. We will be husks of people allowing the winds to take us where they please, never laying claim to anything. Personally, I don’t think this is a good way to live.
Despite my logical side knowing that I must embrace things without certainty, my more emotional side fears the turmoil that uncertainty brings. And as some who deeply values religion, this creates a real issue for me. On the one hand, religion does not offer certainties because it, like all things, is a product of life and therefore naturally bound to be uncertain, and so I fear it. But, on the other hand, there are few times I am happier and more fulfilled then the time I spend engaging with and learning about religion and theology. How am I meant to reconcile these two realities - to embrace faith without giving in to the anxiety of not knowing? I must redefine what it means to be a person of faith.
Forget for a moment any question of whether Christ was who we say he is. Forgo the debates on the existence of God. If we were to pledge our allegiance to God and Christ rather than something else, what would our lives look like? This is the central question of religion. If I say Christ is my one and only Lord, then I cannot be a nationalist, for the only nation with which I am concerned is the eternal Kingdom of God. If I say Christ, my Lord, died for all people and loved all people, then I cannot stand by while oppression occurs, cannot overlook poverty or injustice, must speak out against bigotry, and am obligated to welcome everyone with open arms. My Lord told me that I cannot serve God and money, and so I cannot spend my life in the pursuit of material wealth. In fact, I should flee from abundance because my Lord told me that it is easier for a camel to fit through the eye of needle than it is for a rich man to enter the Kingdom of God. In short, forget the question of whether this is true or not. That is not the real matter at stake here. The real matter at hand is what you are allegiant to.
Are you allegiant to temporary and earthly powers or to a Kingdom without end? Are you allegiant to gold and silver which corrode and chip and decay, or do you build up your treasures in a place where moths cannot destroy them? Are you allegiant to the men who tell you to hate your neighbor and fear what you do not know, or are you allegiant to the shepherd who walks with his flock, keeping them always under his watchful gaze?
In those times of doubt, put aside your fears. Maybe none of this is real, but does it really matter? If you truly follow the meek man from Galilee - the man who blessed the poor and the wayfarer, who dined with sinners and saints, who healed Jew and Gentile, who went to his death without a fight - then what kind of person would that make you, and is it who you want to be? If so, allow your faith to move away from belief. Allow it to transform into allegiance.
